


before we both lose this fight

by teacupfulofbrains



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ARE YOU READY FOR MORE KEITH ANGST, Angst, Found Family, Gen, aftermath of naxzela, big-brother mode matthew holt, i'm so sorry keith my baby boy my son, prepare yourself for angst, reactions to keith's almost-sacrifice, s4 alternate ending, there's no real resolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 06:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13758606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/pseuds/teacupfulofbrains
Summary: Keith doesn't think anything of sacrificing himself for his team.Matt Holt takes some issues with that idea.(OR: the aftermath of Naxzela, ft. Matt Holt in big brother mode and Keith not understanding why he can't sacrifice himself)





	before we both lose this fight

**Author's Note:**

> ME: *has a portfolio and several papers due*   
> ME: . . .   
> ME: I HAVE TO GET THE NAXZELA SCENE OUT BEFORE S5 DROPS   
> i'm sorry in advance, guys. it's just angst. there's no fluffy resolution, it's just angst. i'm sorry. (but please read it anyway i worked hard on it : ) )

The very first lesson taught at the Galaxy Garrison is this: space is a vacuum.

Space is a cold, endless expanse of mostly nothing – a few stars, a few planets, the occasional comet or asteroid belt or nebula. But the majority of space is empty, and the majority of space is devoid of oxygen. It’s why humans and aliens alike limit themselves to planets with habitable atmospheres, to suits with a supply of breathable air, to spaceships with controlled environments. Even here, even in this controlled environment, even in this stolen enemy fighter craft, Keith _can’t fucking breathe_.

He watches numbly as everything around him is bathed in fire, silent explosions sparking on Galra and rebel ships alike. The only thing he can feel is the pain of his fingers clenched around the controls, hands shaking with rage and fear. Matt’s voice echoes in his ear, loud over the comms, and he can feel Voltron's panic through his tenuous connections to Red and Black. He can’t just sit here and watch everything and everyone die – not again. 

Regris’ face comes to mind, and Keith shakes his head vehemently to dispel it. He doesn’t have time to dwell on sentiment, not now, not in the middle of battle. A voice suspiciously like Lance’s appears in his ear: _C’mon, man, you know that’s not right. Emotions won’t make you a worse fighter – if anything, they make us stronger!_ _They let us sympathize with the victims of the Galra Empire, and turn the injustice we feel into righteous anger to fight for the defenseless people of the universe!_  

Kolivan’s voice drowns that one out swiftly, monotonous and serious: _The Blade of Marmora cannot be burdened with the feelings of its members. Each agent understands the risks and the challenges of taking on the Galra Empire, but they are still willing to risk their lives for the mission – for the wellbeing of the universe. They accept the possibility of death as soon as they accept the blade._

Keith wishes the voices in his head agreed; all this inner turmoil makes it very difficult for him to concentrate on not getting blown up. He swivels and rolls almost mindlessly, letting his instincts take over as he swerves around another asteroid, barrel rolling between a cluster of rebel ships and taking out a swath of Galra fighter craft. He blends right in; they’re blindsided.

“We have to take out that ship, or Voltron is done for!” Matt shouts, and the panic in his voice tears through Keith’s heart. “They’ll all get blown to pieces, and I – I just found Pidge again, Keith, I can’t lose her again, not here, not like this.” His voice breaks (just a little bit) and Keith, impossibly, tightens his fingers even further. 

He can’t just sit here and watch everything fall apart. He’d seen the team fracture, slowly, inevitably, with Shiro’s disappearance, under Keith’s command of the Black Lion. She always felt strange to him, too big and too powerful and too foreign. He prefers Red’s lithe form and easy maneuverability and swift movements, but she’s chosen Lance now. And Keith couldn’t live with himself if he kicked an already-vulnerable and compromised Lance off the team because he wanted his lion back. He doesn’t think Red would take him back if he did that; he isn’t sure he’d want her to. 

Besides, the Blade of Marmora is much more Keith’s speed. With the Blade, he doesn’t have to worry about endangering his teammates because they’re endangering themselves right along with him. His decisions don’t carry weight because he isn’t the leader, and he’s free to throw himself headfirst into danger because no one cares if he lives or dies. They only care about the mission, which Keith can relate to; he’s a single soldier in this war, and it shouldn’t matter if he’s alive as long as the cause is alive. The universe will not mourn another death.

“We’ll never pierce that shield!” Matt cries, and Keith’s eyes scan the destruction wrapped around him. He has to do something before Voltron is destroyed, because that’ll mean the destruction of every last scrap of hope the universe might still possess. He’s determined to keep his team safe and alive, because he might agree with the Blade’s concept of throwing yourself away but he refuses to throw away the paladins of Voltron. They’re his family, the first one he’s ever really had, and he still remembers what his father had said when he walked away, Keith crying, hands outstretched as though he could make him stay.

_I’m doing what’s best for you, Keith. Someday, you’ll understand why._

“Maybe not with our weapons,” Keith mutters. He takes a deep, steadying breath, and says, “Matt, when I don’t make it out of this alive, please tell Shiro that I’m sorry I failed him as the leader of Voltron. And tell Lance . . .”

His voice trails off as he tries to think what he could possible tell Matt to convey to Lance once he is gone, but he draws a blank. “Tell Lance that he’s a necessary, valued part of Voltron, no matter what anyone else says – including himself.”

Keith hopes that, someday, the team will understand why he had to do this, why this was best for them.

Matt starts to reply, but Keith shuts off the comms, narrows his eyes at the ship, and guns the engine. The faces of his teammates, his _family_ , flash in front of him as he squeezes his eyes shut: Shiro, smiling softly at him the morning after Keith recused him from the Galaxy Garrison, eyes shining with unspoken gratitude; Hunk pretending his eyes have been speared with popsicles to make Keith smile, his bellowing laugh warm and contagious; Pidge severing Sendak’s arm when they stormed the control room, ribbing Lance with him and grinning like the gremlin sister he never had; Lance smiling softly at him after Sendak’s defeat, clasping their hands together as he finally admits that they are a good team.

_I’m doing this for them,_ he thinks, chanting it quietly like a prayer. _I have to make sure that Voltron survives because without Voltron, the entire universe is lost. I couldn’t pilot Red, I couldn’t lead the team in Shiro’s place, I couldn’t be there for them. This is the only thing I can do for them. I have to do this for them. I’m doing this for them. I’m doing this for them. I’m doing this for them. I’m doing this for them._

He’s so focused on destroying the shield that he doesn’t notice when Lotor destroys it instead, barely managing to pull away from the ensuing explosion in time. He swerves towards the castle, vowing silently that he’s never going to tell them what almost happened. He can’t burden them with that.

*~*~*~*~*

Matt is almost ecstatic with the way the battle is going. Voltron seems to be winning, from what he can tell the Blade of Marmora have encountered little resistance, and he and Olia are leading the rebel fleet to victory.

Then the second Galra cruiser appears in the sky, and the communications from Voltron turn from victory to terror. It tears Matt’s heart asunder to hear his sister screaming in pain, to hear her plead that she can’t die here, not yet, as though she’s already accepted that she’s going to die long before she should. He spent a year cooped up in a Galra prison, waiting to be rescued, and then rebels broke him out and he’s spent every moment since then fighting to free the galaxy and searching for his father and worrying about his sister and mother back on earth.

Then, finally, he finds his sister, and she’s running under his old nickname for her, the one that used to make her roll her eyes and throw nearby objects at him. Not only that, she’s piloting one-fifth of _mother fucking Voltron itself!_ Pride burns bright in his chest, blazes in his eyes when he looks at her, and now she’s going to die alone on a strange planet trapped in a gigantic alien robot, and there’s nothing he can do save her.

Keith’s Galra fighter spins around their ship and blasts a few more enemy ships out of the way. “If that cannon fires again, we won’t survive,” Olia yells, and Matt doesn’t know what he can do but there has to be _something_. He can’t just sit here and watch the universe collapse around him. His brain jumps into overdrive, trying to figure out something that can be done. 

“Do we have any escape pods on this ship?” he yells. Olia raises an outraged eyebrow, but before she can scold him he clarifies hurriedly. “I’m going to hotwire one and help Keith! We have to do something!”

“There aren’t any,” she tells him. “This ship wasn’t built with the capacity. She’s all we’ve got.”   

“I can’t drag all of you into heavy fire with me,” Matt says, thinking out loud, but Olia’s eyes widen in horror.

“You’re not a fighter pilot!” she snaps. “You aren’t trained! You can’t seriously be thinking of trying to go out there?” 

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Matt argues. Before he can say anything else, a Galra fighter craft zooms forward, blasting more fighters out of the way as it beelines towards the mothership.

“Keith, what are you doing?” Matt yells. “What is this?”

“Matt, when I don’t make it out of this alive, tell Shiro that I’m sorry I failed him,” Keith says, and there’s something off about his voice that’s worse than the shitty comm quality. Matt doesn’t want to believe it, but he can’t help noticing that Keith says _when_ I don’t make it, not _if_. “And tell Lance . . . tell Lance that he’s a necessary, valued part of Voltron, no matter what anyone says – including himself.” 

The comm cuts off with a sharp staticky squeal, and Matt can feel his heart, low as it is, sink even further through his chest. He keeps shouting, and he knows that Keith can’t hear him anymore but maybe if he just shouts _loud_ enough Keith will know and turn around.

He wonders if this is what Pidge felt like, watching his rocket blast off towards Kerberos. It might be worse, because she could contact him if she really needed to, before he was abducted by aliens. Matt spent all those long, lonely days after Shiro and his father were separated from him shouting frantically for his father and his sister and his pilot. The Galra used to stand guard specifically outside his cell so that they could come in and smack him around when he yelled, so he was reduced to whispering towards the sky.

Even after the rebels broke him out, hope was a fleeting thing, because he saw the truest extent of the Galra Empire, and any hope of finding his family dwindled to nothing. Those preoccupied with intergalactic wars are more than willing to risk their lives, and most of his compatriots had already lost their loved ones, their civilizations, their whole planets to the Empire, using the memories as motivation to keep going. Family rarely crossed their minds, and when it did, it meant the found family of fellow freedom fighters. Even as they told him he had to fake his death, Matt still clung to the slimmest hope of his father finding him, leaving a coded message on his tombstone. 

Then Katie showed up and kicked his ass. He saw her fly the Green Lion, saw her form Voltron, saw her room and her projects and her castle-ship and her own found family – _their_ found family, now. They’ve welcomed him with open arms. Even Lance, despite his initial hostility, has become a brother in arms. They’ve all become like younger siblings to him (barring Shiro), and now he’s about to lose them all. 

“Matt, there’s nothing we can do!” Olia shouts. “If we try to move, that laser will slice us in half before we get three _maaklir_!” Matt knows this, logically he does, but all he can think about is the devastated look on Pidge’s face if he has to tell her that she’s lost another older brother, one who’s never coming back. She told him how she sobbed on the ground in front of his makeshift grave. He can’t put her through that. Not again. 

Keith gets closer and closer to the ship, and Matt is about to go after him, damn the the laser, damn the fighters, damn the _whole Galra empire_ , when a brilliant purple beam of light pierces through the shield, which explodes into fragments of light. He can hear Voltron over the comms, heart pounding in furious relief as Keith swerves away at the last second. The fear is sliding away, replaced with something else, a surge of older-brother protectiveness that Matt didn’t know he could feel for someone who wasn’t Katie.

But he’s angry, that Keith thinks that he made the right choice, that he couldn’t have done anything if Lotor hadn’t showed up, that he would have lost a family member in the vacuum of space and there wouldn’t even have been a body to bury. Matt slams his fist against the side of the ship; it feels good, cathartic, so he does it again, and again, and a fourth time, until Olia sets a hand on his arm and points to Keith’s fighter, still undamaged, heading for the castle.

Lotor’s voice hailing them over the comms rings in Matt’s ears faintly as he sits back down, hands beginning to feel sore, and whispers a thank you to whatever might be out there that Keith is still alive. It’s a really good thing, too, because Matt is going to kill Keith himself.

*~*~*~*~*

Keith ditches the fighter near the castle, using his jetpack to close the short distance to the hangar. The lions are already resting in their spots, along with a strange orange-grey-purple ship that Keith instinctively veers away from. He runs a hand along Black’s front paw as he passes her, feels a thrum of exhaustion and resigned calm. He touches Red’s paw too; a surge of burning anger at his recklessness slams into him, but it’s accompanied by the warm glow of pride. He smiles softly to himself, and then someone shouts his name.

“KEITH!”

Matt Holt strides across the hangar, forceful and determined, face set in stony anger. Before Keith can even begin to say something, Matt grips his shoulder like a vice and steers him towards a dark, uninhabited corner of the hangar. He’s taller than Keith (most people are, which is a sticking point for Keith because it’s hard to intimidate people when you’re shorter than they are), but not by much. He’s still older, though, and he positions Keith so his back is against the wall, which makes him slightly claustrophobic.

Keith sees so much of Pidge in her older brother. It goes beyond the haircut and the eyes and the facial structure, beyond the general physical sibling resemblance, beyond their technical knowhow and general dorky inability with people. They both care more than they let on, and they refuse to tell you if you ask but when it really matters, it comes shining through. It was in Pidge’s tears when she hugged him goodbye as he left to join the Blade of Marmora, and it’s in Matt’s angry expression now. Matt’s shoulders are squared, eyes burning, and Keith doesn’t do fear so instead he glares right back at Matt, looking as tall as possible.

 “What?” he bites. “We have to go meet the rest of the team, we have to deal with Lotor and his ‘discussion’ bullshit, we have to –” 

“We have to talk about what just happened,” Matt says, voice the same calm, measured steady as Shiro’s when Lance and Pidge have been up to particularly egregious Shenaniganery™. “Keith, what the _fuck_ was that.” It’s not a question. Keith hadn’t prepared for this scenario; he’d been expecting to die. He never thought anyone would ask him to explain himself.

“What was what.” Keith keeps his voice flat, nondescript. He doesn’t know why Matt is making a mountain out of a molehill. Any other Blade member in his position would have done the same thing. It’s not a big deal. 

“You almost crashed into the barrier,” Matt says. “Your ship would have been destroyed.” Keith doesn’t answer him, because Matt isn’t wrong. Matt waits a few moments, like he’s expecting a response. When Keith doesn’t give him one, he adds, “You could have died, Keith.”

“And?” Keith shrugs. He’s annoyed that Matt is keeping him here, confused as to why. “The mission would have succeeded either way, and that’s all that matters.” He moves to leave, but Matt stops him, hand on his shoulder. He’s not much taller than Keith, slim and wiry, but there’s strength there, enough to give Keith pause.

“You could have _died_ , Keith.” Matt’s voice is softer now, each individual consonant over-enunciated. It sounds like the way you would speak to a child, and that rubs Keith the wrong way.

“The mission would have succeeded,” Keith repeats, voice barbed. “It would’ve been fine either way, can – can we just go, please?”

“No!” Matt snarls. “No, you have to explain yourself to me, because I’m real fuckin’ confused, Keith! What kind of garbage is that, that you can just die and expect us to be fine?!” 

“It’s _war_ , Matt!” Keith explodes. “What the quiznak do you expect, huh? Sacrifices have to be made! You have to accept that you can’t save everyone!” Regris’ face appears unbidden in his mind, and he pushes it away. He can feel angry tears forming in his eyes, and he curses his innate inability to form and keep lasting, meaningful relationships with other people 

“Sometimes, people die! And it sucks, but they’re gone, and you can’t bring them back! You just have to go on without them!” Now his mother’s face is in his mind, but it’s not really _her_ because he’s never seen her. It’s what he’s always wanted her to be, but now she has purple skin and glowing yellow eyes and gleaming fangs. 

Matt still looks angry, but his face is slightly softer now. “Is that what they told you?”

*~*~*~*~*

Keith’s fists clench, and Matt tightens his grip on his shoulder. He watches Keith grit his teeth, trying to think of the right words, and his heart clenches. It’s physically painful to hear Keith spit back such toxic garbage, garbage that the Blade of Marmora has been reinforcing for months now. 

“That’s how war works. The fate of the universe is at stake, Matt. The mission is more important than any one team member, and if that means I have to die to get us where we need to be, then I’m more than willing to sacrifice my life for that!” 

“The fate of the universe isn’t worth a suicide mission!” Matt yells, and they’re both really angry now. One of Keith’s hands is clenched around his knife handle, and Matt’s free hand is itching to grab his staff. “Your life is precious to the members of your team – your life is precious to Voltron! How could you possibly think –” 

“I left my team!” Keith snaps, and Matt can see him struggling to rein in the angry tears welling in his eyes. He pretends he doesn’t see them. “I left them for the Blade of Marmora because Shiro came back and the Black Lion took him back! We had one too many paladins, and the Blade gave me an opportunity to do some actual good in this war, and I took it! They went on without me without even batting an eye! They could have done it again.”

Matt’s sad now. Not angry, not anymore, just deeply saddened. “Keith, do you love them?”

“They’re my family,” Keith says, deliberately not answering the question. Matt loosens his grip slightly, changes it from threatening to reassuring, rubbing one thumb back and forth. He stops immediately when Keith flinches. 

“The people you love never truly leave you,” Matt says, trying to think of the right things to say. “They’re a part of you, Keith. As long as you remember them, they’ll always be with you.” Keith’s face makes an interesting expression, like he’s lost in thought. “Of course they miss you. Of course they care about you.”

“You would have died,” Keith growls, low and harsh. If Matt didn’t know better, he’d think there was a yellowish tinge to the whites of Keith’s eyes, and his canines look slightly sharper, like fangs. “Are you okay with that? Are you okay knowing that you would have died without my sacrifice if Lotor hadn’t been there? You would have died, Matt!”

“You say that like I didn’t have a plan,” Matt says, and he didn’t, that’s blatant bullshit, but Keith doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know about the agonizing seconds where Matt refused to come to terms with the futility of trying to save himself and his comrades and his sister and her team all at once. 

“There was nothing you could have done,” Keith argues. The way he narrows his eyes suggests that he knows Matt’s lying about having a plan.   
  
“Pidge lost one older brother when the Kerberos mission disappeared. I can’t even begin to imagine how agonizing it was for her. I’m not about to let her lose any more big brothers.” Matt controls his voice, making sure it doesn’t break or waver, but in his mind’s eye he can see Pidge’s face fade into shock and horror as he tells her. He can hear her screaming at the top of her lungs, feel her shoving him away, punching him as hard as she can, visualize the terrified faces of the rest of the team. He can see Pidge sobbing in Lance’s lap as he tries not to break down in front of her. Matt can see Keith’s team falling apart at the news of his demise, and Keith, apparently, can’t even begin to imagine their anguish and heartbreak.

There are angry tears welling up in his eyes, and he can see them forming in Keith’s as well. He doesn’t know how to convey to Keith that _literally everyone in this castle ship_ (except maybe Lotor) would be completely devastated if something were to happen to him. He’s thinking of more words, hoping that he’ll stumble on the right ones, and then the hangar doors slam open.

Footsteps pound across the floor, and suddenly a blue blur is barreling across the room and tackling Keith. Lance is clinging to Keith like a starfish, chattering excitedly about the mission like Keith wasn’t there, and Matt sees the brief hesitation in Keith’s face before he’s clinging to Lance like the world is about to end. He’s murmuring softly against Lance’s shoulder, smiling softly, and when he makes eye contact with Matt again he widens his eyes just slightly, flicking them towards Lance, in a silent plea.

Matt shakes his head, sadly, mouthing _We’re not done_ before walking towards the hangar doors. Pidge comes scampering through and jumps into his arms, and Matt takes the time to revel in the comfort of his little sister in his arms, safe and warm and alive. At least for today, his little found family is still alive, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way, even if that means locking Keith in a broom closet until they have Zarkon’s head on a silver platter.

Pidge shifts in his arms, and he swears silently to her that he’ll never let her lose another big brother if there's a way for him to prevent it. She's had too much heartbreak already.

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on tumblr!! // @teacupfulofstarshine //


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